Why doesn’t Britain love the Tour de France leader Froome?

THERE are days at the Tour de France when you would consider swapping non-vital organs for a bit of shade, but Chris Froome does not seem to mind when the tarmac gets sticky. Perhaps it is his African upbringing.

It could also have something to do with the two large shadows he toils under — one cast by a former team-mate, the other belonging to the Tour’s most famous non-person.

The affable Froome’s actual differences of opinion with Sir Bradley Wiggins have been a bit overstated: some professional jealousy here, a misunderstanding there and the occasional frustration at the constant scrutiny. This is regulation stuff for top sports teams.

But no amount of PR can hide the fact that the past and present leaders of Team Sky are very different personalities.

The shame of it for Froome is that a large section of the viewing public, especially in the UK, has decided which of these two fascinating individuals they prefer, or can relate to more easily, and it is not the Kenya-born, South Africa-educated, Monaco-based “Froomey” — it is the Belgium-born, half-australian “Wiggo”.

Froome’s second sunlight-stealer is the Tour’s self-styled Voldemort, the unnameable evil lurking in the woods, banished from the village because he cheated better, lied more aggressively and made more money than everybody else.

If it was bad timing for Froome to win the first Tour after Lance Armstrong finally got rumbled, it is cruel misfortune he should be leading the race again just as the American arrives to ride two stages of the race a day ahead for charity.

No wonder Armstrong, not usually one for long bouts of soulsearching, has seen fit to issue his second apology to Froome this year for passing on such a radioactive baton.

Unlike many other recent cycling champions — be it through their teams, coaches, doctors, former admiration for the man or some other link — Froome has no real connection to the man stripped of his record-breaking seven Tour wins.

The association is in people’s heads. For some it is a nagging sense of deja vu, for others it is a refusal to be duped again and a few are still annoyed with themselves that they were duped in the first place.

That does not mean these feelings have no merit. The Armstrong era — and let us be clear here, he was one cheat among many — hurt a lot of people and it is entirely understandable for people to be suspicious, even cynical, for a long time to come. In fact, it is sensible.

Sensible but deeply frustrating if you are the focus of that suspicion.

Speaking at the finish of the Tour’s 11th stage on Wednesday, Froome’s team-mate Geraint Thomas, who has never ducked a question about doping, said: “It’s a shame that is the way the sport is at the moment.

“You can understand why, in a way, because of the past, but you don’t see that if a tennis player is doing really well, or a footballer is really good.

“It’s just a shame that if you do a good performance on a bike that’s the way it is. We’ve just got to keep doing what we do and doing it in the right way. “I’ve got a clean conscience.” Froome has expressed the same sentiments. Many, many times.

There is a difference between Froome and Thomas, though, and it makes his story more like Armstrong’s. Thomas (29), has always been good. A star graduate of the British Cycling system, the Welshman won the Junior Paris-roubaix race at 17, a junior world title on the track at 18 and by 21 he was completing his first Tour de France.

He spent the next five years, like Wiggins, alternating between the road and the track, winning two olympic gold medals in the process.

— BBCSport